


The Adventures Of... (Death Note Oneshot Book)

by dragonsareourfuture, weirdbeing



Category: Death Note
Genre: “Daddy your friend is falling.”, “I wanna bleed on Near!”, “L HAD TO DO THE THING TO MAKE THE THING”, “Seriously who needs THAT many potato chips!?”, “WHY WOULD I INTEND TO HAVE A GHOST CUP SMASH MY HEAD IN???”, “YOU DON’T HAVE MY CONSENT”, ”He said it Matt! He said ‘dada’!”
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsareourfuture/pseuds/dragonsareourfuture, https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdbeing/pseuds/weirdbeing
Summary: Assorted Death Note OneshotsDescription of each oneshot can be found in the tags.
Kudos: 10





	1. The Adventures Of Teaching Mello and Near (Poor, Poor Roger)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by: dragonsareourfuture

Roger heaved a great sigh, the only sound in his office being the scraping of his desk drawer as he pulled it open, scanning the labels of the folders inside until he came upon the desired one — Sex Ed, Gifted Class. The already exhausted man tossed the folder on his desk, allowing it to land with a  fwap . He leaned back in his desk chair staring at the cream-colored folder as it just sat there, taunting him.

It wasn’t as if the man hadn’t conducted sex education courses for other students before, he had, in fact, for many other classes before this one. Those students had reacted as any adolescent in a particularly cramped environment would have. The kids had giggled to their friends, the more mature ones sitting through the lesson without a word uttered from their mouths. But it wasn’t  those kids Roger was worried about.

Despite the dread, Roger lifted himself from his chair, picking up the folder, and wheeled the projector along with him out of the office. The machine itself wasn’t by any means new, but most of the money they had went to other, more important aspects of life and learning at Wammy’s. They could deal with a mediocre projector as long as their curriculum and living conditions were up to date.

The hallways were quiet, nearly silent save for the echo of other teachers through the walls conducting their lessons, and the gentle squeak of the projector cart’s wheels. Savoring this moment of quiet, the silver haired man came to a stop at a door separate from all the others. He pushed it open and wheeled the cart inside, soon following and shutting the door behind him.

This was a classroom smaller than the rest, which was suitable for the situation given there were only two, now three, people inside. The first and second in line to be the next L were seated at their respective desks.

“Alright,” Roger began, settling the projector near the wall at the front of the room to be used later and opening up the folder, spreading a few papers onto the instructor’s desk, “Today’s lesson is a bit different than the others we’ve had previously, but I assure you that you will need it in the future. Very important stuff here, so listen up.”

In response to his grave tone, Mello moved to the edge of his seat, readying his pencil to copy down any and every word he was told. Always so determined to beat his counterpart, who had pulled one knee up to his chin and was absentmindedly twirling a strand of snowy while hair around his index finger. Though he sported a vacant expression, Roger was fully aware that Near was taking in every bit of information that was thrown at him.

“So, consent.”

“Wait...what?” Came Mello’s response.

“Consent is extremely important in any sexual or even romantic situation, so it is key to identify when someone is giving you consent.”

“Huh!?”

“Consent can be defined by a ‘yes’. Some people tend to use body language to express their consent, but it is best to always ask beforehand and pay close attention to any signs that your partner isn’t that into it—“

“ROGER WHAT?”

“Yes, Mello? What is it?” Roger sighed.

By now the blond was on his feet, battle stance ready. His pencil and notebook lay completely forgotten on his desk. “This is NOT trigonometry.”

“Yes, I...I figured that was fairly obvious.”

“You said we’d be moving on to trigonometry today. So what the  HELL IS THIS?”

Roger pinched the bridge of his nose, pulling out the chair under the instructor’s desk and sitting down. A headache was already beginning to build and he hasn’t even been in there for five minutes.

“This is your mandatory sexual education course. Every child here has gone through it except for you two because you take separate classes. But there’s no escaping it anymore I suppose...”

Near gave a slight hum of understanding. Mello was still looking ready to fight.

“Alright then, since you don’t seem to want to talk about consent, we’ll talk about something else.”

“Thank god!” Mello breathed, swinging his leg over his chair and plopping himself down, picking up his pencil once more.

“STD’s can be spread through sexual contact and can be prevented by—“

“WHAT THE HELL!? NO! THIS IS NOT ANY BETTER!”

“I never said it was going to be better. Ah, Near, would you mind?” Roger addressed the white haired boy as Mello tried to get up so fast that he toppled his entire desk over, legs getting tangled in the desk’s metal ones.

“I’m fine! Don’t touch me and spread those STD’s or whatever.”

“But I’m not touching you sexually,” Near deadpanned, causing Mello to reel back so much that he nearly fell over again.

“AND YOU WILL NOT. EVER.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, but now I know that I don’t have your consent.”

Roger clapped his hands, interrupting whatever he was witnessing unfold before him as Near righted Mello’s desk and retreated back to his own. “That’s right, Near. I see you’ve picked up on the concept of consent already.”

Mello clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Tch, this is worthless! When am I ever going to need to know about this...stuff?”

“You can say what it is, Mello. It’s sex. And you’re probably going to have it when you’re older.” Roger trailed off to a mumble for this last part, “if you can find someone willing to deal with your shi—“

“GROSS. Who said I’m ever going to have...”

“Sex?” Near finished, eliciting what could only be described as a snarl from the blond beside him.

“I swear, I’m going to punch you in your stupid face!”

“You don’t have my consent.”

“GAAAHHH—“

Roger practically sprinted across the classroom to hold Mello back by his underarms, legs swinging in Near’s direction hoping to still at least get a kick at his arm. At this point Roger was beyond relieved that the two walking disasters were being taught separately — less collateral damage.

“Mello, listen to me, if you don’t stop kicking this instant I will take your chocolate stash and feed it to the squirrels.”

At Roger’s words the blond’s small legs froze in place for a moment, thinking over the threat and determining whether his precious chocolate was worth a shot off of Near, and fell limp to the floor. Roger breathed a sigh of relief and placed the grumpy blond back in his desk chair, heading back to the front of the room.

“Alright, now that that’s settled,” the older man flipped open the folder he had brought with him and retrieved some pictures, booting up the projector all the afterwards. “It’s important to know and identify what different STD’s look like, so I’ll be showing a few examples...”

Roger paused. No screaming? No protests? For a moment he was surprised that Mello had matured enough not to be grossed out by this in a mere matter of seconds. But then he realized that this was Mello, and that was impossible. He whirled around just as the projector started up to find Mello’s desk empty, and the window open.

“MELLO GET AWAY FROM THE WINDOW!”

“YOU CAN’T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING— GAH! GET OFF! NO CONSENT! NO CONSENT!”

Mello’s leg was already out into the open air, there was no questioning he would’ve jumped if Roger hadn’t caught him and heaved him back inside.

“It hurts when your consent is violated, doesn’t it, Mello?”

“Shut up, Near.”


	2. The Adventures Of Mello’s Apparent Parenthood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by: dragonsareourfuture

Someone was going to pay for this , Mello determined, stalking the halls of the orphanage like a predator searching for its prey. The scowl on his face was an obvious tell of the mood he was in, although his expression rarely fluctuated, due to a certain rumor that had been going around Wammy’s ever since the news came out: one of the top students had a kid.

For some reason beyond Mello’s comprehension, all the children had assumed it was him, a literal twelve year old, that had a child. So, naturally, he was determined to find the actual child creator and put the rumors to rest. Luckily, everyone was gathering in the main room for a meeting today, L was even coming over.

Upon entering the main room, about twenty pairs of eyes shifted over to the practically steaming blond. You’d think they’d learn not to mess with him on his bad days, but alas...

“Hey, Mello! Super excited to meet your kid!”

“Yeah! What name did you go with?”

“IT’S NOT MY KID, ASSHOLES! I’M TWELVE YEARS OLD AND WHEN EXACTLY DID YOU SEE ME LEAVE TO ORPHANAGE TO  MAKE THE KID!?”

“Mello, quiet down and control your language,” spoke Roger calmly from his chair by the fireplace. “And I have to ask that you use a better term than ‘make the kid’. Though it doesn’t exactly surprise me given the outcome of our sex education course—“

“CAN EVERYONE JUST PLEASE NOT SPEAK EVER AGAIN!?”

Luckily, Mello was saved from another reminder to keep quiet as the door swung open, the oldest of the Wammy children ambling through on his bare feet. The group of kids immediately stampeded over to the hunched man, jumping up and down in front of him and gripping his pant legs. Their shift in location revealed a white lump huddled close to the floor. Near, crunched up in a ball with one knee pulled up to his ear as he worked tirelessly in a puzzle, never once distracted by the commotion.

Before greeting L, Mello stomped over to Near, waiting for him to look up, but he never did.

“I know I wasn’t the one who had a kid, so unless it was you or Matt—“

“How could I have a kid?” Near deadpanned, “I didn’t learn anything in our sex ed class.”

Mello thought better than to waste his time with the white haired menace, huffing out a threat before trudging over and pushing past all the other children to get to L. The detective already appeared overwhelmed by all the questions being thrown at him, even more so when the little firecracker himself came barreling up screaming about a child.

“I’m sorry...what?” L said, his mere words silencing all the children except for Mello, who repeated his question even louder this time if it were possible.

“DID YOU HAVE A KID???”

L pressed a thumb against his pale lips, manipulating the flesh there while all the children waited for his answer with bated breath. It was as if he enjoyed keeping them all in suspense and, knowing how dramatic L can be with his methods, Mello was sure that was the case. Still, Mello’s patience was wearing thin, and he opened his mouth to speak up again when L responded with a simple “yes”.

“HAH! See? I told you!” The blond gloated, peering behind him to catch the reactions of the other kids only to find them groaning and handing the scarce amount of pocket money they had to a quiet kid in the back of the group. “Wha...ALL OF YOU BET THAT IT WAS MY KID?!”

“To be fair,” Roger interjected again, not looking up from the book he had pulled out and begun to read, “I always thought you would be the one to have a child out of nowhere. Never this early, of course. But still...”

“Eh, I still don’t believe it. Where’s the proof?”

“Matt!? You’re supposed to be on  my side here!”

Matt shrugged at his friend, barely concealing the smirk of someone that knows he’s getting under his friend’s skin, and formed a megaphone around his mouth with his hands.

“PROOOOOOOFFFFF”

With that, all the other kids joined in. Roger seemed unaffected by the sudden chorus of children screaming ‘PROOF’ and continued his book. Curse this man and his impeccable ability to tune things out.

L rolled his eyes, turned around and headed straight out the door. For a moment Mello thought that L had just left. That is, up until he returned, this time with a smaller body squirming around in his arms. He held the squealing little girl up above the sea of yelling children Lion King style. The orphans marveled at the little girl, mouths agape and eyes the size of saucers.

And there was the proof.

The same black hair as L’s stuck out from the hood of a onesie decorated to look like a narwhal, horn and all. Her little legs kicked around with there being no floor underneath her feet, and Mello wondered if she could walk yet.

Everyone thought that Mello would be content with this outcome, even himself. But with this new tidbit of information came a new crisis.

“Oh god,” Mello groaned, being the first person to say anything other than ‘woah’ or ‘wooooow’.

“What’s wrong now?” Near finally piped up again.

“L HAD TO  DO THE THING TO  MAKE THE THING.”

“Honestly, did Roger teach you nothing?”

“L, I would  gladly let you try to instruct a sex Ed course with him in it, believe me,” sighed Roger, snapping his book shut, giving up on all attempts of concentration.

“In any case—“ L brought his daughter to the ground, allowing her to take control with her own two wobbly legs “—this is Luci. Can you say hi, Lu?”

“Yes,” the girl squeaked, and immediately everyone went fawning over her. They asked to pick her up, which L was hesitant about but he showed them how to hold her nonetheless.

“What about me? Can I hold her?” Mello asked, forcing his way through the crowd once more.

“Of course. Luci, over here. This is your uncle Mello.”

“Uncle Mello!” The girl cheered, waddling over to the blond boy and making grabby hands as a signal to be picked up.

Nearly in tears at the nickname, Mello lifted Luci up by her underarms. “Uh...”

“Here, like this.” L directed, adjusting his daughter’s position until she was secure in his successor’s arms. “There we go.”

Mello couldn’t wipe the smile from his face even if he wanted to. L’s daughter giggled when he bounced her up and down, her pudgy fingers playing with strands of his blond hair. In any other situation, Mello would have disliked anyone touching his hair. But this was  L’s daughter , for god’s sake.

“May I hold her?” came the voice of Near a few moments later.

“No! Back off, I’m not done!”

“Mello, play nice.”


	3. The Adventures of Matsuda Fainting Because Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by: weirdbeing

Matsuda didn't trust L, then again he was fairly certain that none of the team trusted L. On top of having odd methods and being either insanely blunt or insanely vague, he was keeping information from the task force. Important information.

Chief was the first to notice the unheard arguments between L and Watari. L was angry at Watari, that much was obvious, and it was the only time the task force had seen him show actual emotion. It was clear that they weren't meant to see him like that. Matsuda knew he wasn't the most observant person, but once it was pointed out to him he couldn't unsee it.

Then the arguments became a bit more public.

"Ryuzaki, do you have anything to tell the group?" Watari asked, his voice calm and practiced.

"I do not."

They were sitting around a coffee table in the hotel suite of that weekend. Watari was staring intently at L who was avoiding his eyes by looking at the documents spread across the table. Aizawa was looking pissed.

"What is he talking about? We have a right to know-"

"You have no right to the information Watari is referring to."

"We are risking our lives!" Aizawa snapped, "If this information is so important that Watari is referring to it constantly then I think we should all be on the same page."

L let out a breath, "I will tell you that it is personal, but nothing more."

They heard the argument a few more times, but it always ended the same way. L bluntly dismissing the topic while the task force sat around, stewing in their irritation. It had to be something to do with Kira. Matsuda was sure of it.

Then they learned what it was. It was somewhere between two and three in the morning and the task force was sitting around a table. They stared silently at L, waiting for him to say something about the recently confirmed Kira killings when a slight sound was heard. The quiet squeaking of a door coming from somewhere in the suite, then tiny muffled footsteps until the source of the noise was revealed.

A little girl had appeared at the end of the hallway. She looked to be a toddler or barely older and wore blue footie pajamas that had a smiley narwhal face and horn on the hood. The hood was a little too big, covering a portion of her forehead and pushing loose black hairs into her face. In her tiny arms was a pink pig stuffed animal that she clutched to her chest as she looked around at the task force with wide eyes.

Matsuda stared at the little girl, his pure shock showed on his face. There was a kid in the hotel room where a murder investigation was being discussed.  Why was there a kid in the hotel room where a murder investigation was being discussed? Matsuda glanced across the table at the Chief, who seemed to have figured something out that Matsuda hadn't, and was waving at the little girl. When the Chief's eyes moved from the girl to L, Matsuda's followed in suit. L's face could be described as nothing but panicked. The little girl ran, or ran as best as she could with her tiny legs, over to L.

"Daddy, I don't feel good." She told L, just loud enough that Matsuda was able to hear it from his seat a few feet away.

Matsuda blinked.

“You have a child!” He managed jumping up from his seat, "L,  _ like the L _ , has a kid!"

There was a pain in Matsuda's side as Aizawa elbowed him sharply. Aizawa was looking over his shoulder and Matsuda glanced over as well. L had picked up the girl and was moving around the little hotel room kitchenette, grabbing for a sippy cup and a bottled water. The girl looked over L's shoulder at the task force. She waved at Matsuda.

"Are we going to get any explanation?" He asked, his head was starting to hurt from this.

L didn't even turn to look at them when he spoke.

"This is my daughter Luci." He said in a monotone, all his attention focused on checking his said daughter's temperature.

L had a kid. That was the personal piece of information he wouldn't tell them. He was trying to keep Kira away from his child. Matsuda's head was feeling fuzzy and his stomach hurt before his vision started to blur.

He heard a tiny voice say, "Daddy, your friend is falling."

Then he woke up on the floor.

"Matsuda, are you okay?" Chief said, offering Matsuda a hand.

Matsuda took it, nodding his answer as he rejoined the group and sat back down.

"Are you better?"

Matsuda turned to the voice to see that L was back in his seat, his daughter sitting with him. Luci was looking at Matsuda while sitting on L's shoulders, her arms crossed on top of L's head, and her chin resting on her arms.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He told her, Luci smiled at him.

"Lu, you said you were going to sleep if I let you stay in here." L said, looking up as much as he could without moving his head.

Luci did as she was told and fell asleep on her father within minutes. Matsuda was barely paying attention for the rest of the meeting and when it was finally over at four in the morning Matsuda was the first to step into the hallway. When the door was shut Matsuda turned to face his fellow task force members and yelled.

"HE'S GOT A KID!"


	4. The Adventures of Drugged Out Mello (Youtuber AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mello is a well known youtuber and Matt acts as his cameraman as they travel home from Mello’s wisdom teeth removal. It is a lovely time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by: dragonsareourfuture

Matt noted the little, blinking red light that indicated the camera was recording and hopped into the car along with Roger and Mello. He wanted to get the best view of the star of the channel, and the back seat just wouldn’t do it for him. So, Matt squished in between his two companions, seating his ass on the glove box as Roger started up the car.

“Mello, say ‘hi’ to your Marshmellos!” Matt told his best friend in a singsongy voice. Normally, if Mello hadn’t been as cracked out of it as he was, Matt would get yelled at for calling his Subscribers ’Marshmellos’. But with the usually fiery blond’s head lolling back against the headrest, his index finger jabbing at the gauze that puffed out his cheeks, Matt didn’t exactly have to worry.

“Hewwo, to all the idiots who still watch these videos...” Mello said around a mouthful of gauze, gazing into the camera with eyes that appeared out of focus.

“Quit poking around your gauze, it’s there to keep the blood  in your mouth— hey!” Matt began to reprimand but was caught off guard by Mello’s bloody index finger heading straight for his face. He grabbed his hand by the wrist before it could make contact with his nose and shoved it back at Mello’s side.

Roger pulled out of their parking space finally, driving to the exit and heading down the road as the hospital they left behind shrunk from their view. “Mello, are you sure you want Matt recording you when you’re like this?”

“Yes, Roger!” Mello shouted as best he could without the bloody padding falling out of his mouth. “I want the vieewwwsss...!”

“Mello, sit back!” Matt pushed his friend until his back met the seat and pushed the gauze further into his mouth, as it was halfway out already. “You gotta take it easy, alright?”

“Mmmmmmm fine,” Mello pouted. Despite his promise, soon after he was twisting around in his seat and making grabs at his jacket which lay forgotten in the back seat.

“What do you need?” Matt asked, retrieving the leather attire and holding it away from Mello before he answered the question properly.

“I have a chocolate bar in the pocket,” Mello admitted.

“Sorry, pal. Can’t let you eat anything hard or crunchy.” Mello let out an annoyed groan. Matt bent down to pick up the shopping bag by his best friend’s feet. “But I did get you some chocolate pudding from the store on the way here. You can have some when we get home.”

Mello became slack jawed and Matt had to stuff the gauze back in his mouth once more. “Really...?”

“Yeah, man.”

“You’re the bestest friend ever!” Mello declared with a battle cry that practically shook the vehicle as he threw himself at Matt for a hug, sending both boys crashing into Roger and flinging the camera to the floor.

The car swerved and multiple drivers honked irritably before Roger was able to steady the car. All the camera was able to pick up was the car’s carpeted floor and the constant yet giggly apologies of Matt and the garbled cackling of the drugged-out Mello.

“I swear to the high heavens, Mihael, if you do something so reckless again I am making you walk the rest of the way home!”

* * *

The footage cut to a shaky view of the front door of the strangely formatted Victorian home the group lived in. For the purpose of a catchy name, they called it ‘Wammy house’ when talking about their living space on camera. Seeing as about six people lived in the one home, it’s odd yet spacious layout as well as the occasional ‘secret’ passageway into someone’s bedroom came in handy.

“Home sweet home!” Matt sighed after Roger unlocked the door and shunted the two boys inside with very little kindness.

“Where’s Near? Ah,” Mello asked before spotting the little albino boy curled up on the couch watching Jeopardy.

“Hm? Me?”

“What!? We just get home and the first person you want to see is  _ Near _ ? What’s with the change of heart?” Matt was sure to train the camera on Mello as he stumbled towards the couch, Near only just now looking up to see what was going on.

“I wanna bleed on Near!” The blond crawled over the arm of the couch and let the gauze fall from his mouth.

“MELLO, NO-!”

The footage abruptly cut off.


	5. The Adventures of Ghost Hunting! *Not Clickbait* (Youtuber AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wammy House Youtuber boys go ghost hunting in a haunted hotel for content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by: dragonsareourfuture

“Near, get in the car.”

“Why do I have to go?”

“Because you’re a part of this family now MOVE YOUR ASS.”

“I’m suddenly a part of this family when it’s convenient to you?”

The camera that rested on the dashboard (duct taped there, actually, since Matt couldn’t find a proper holster for a dashboard) could only pick up distant voices as the gaggle of idiotic geniuses loaded their luggage into the trunk and, when that ran out of room, the back seat. The first to appear on camera was Near, maneuvering his way into the back seat of the car over suitcases and backpacks. 

Following Near into the back seat was Watari and Matt. Roger soon appeared behind the stealing wheel — Mello had insisted Roger drive first because his “old man brain” would cause him to fall tired the fastest so it was best if he started his driving shift earlier in the day. Not that Roger had complained at all. It would be nice to nap as the sky grew dim, and he chose to ignore Mello’s “old man” remark. It wouldn’t be wise to start fights before they even got on the road. This would be a long trip, they had to preserve their patience.

“Alright,” Mello began, adjusting the camera on the dashboard as Roger started the car’s ignition, “you guys ready to be murdered by a ghost in our sleep?”

“We aren’t going to see any ghosts. Businesses use this ploy all the time, this hotel is no different,” Near explained from behind a giant duffel bag. Mello rolled his eyes to the camera and mouthed nonsense to Near’s words like a child making fun of their parent. “People believe they’re going to see a ghost so they trick themselves into thinking something supernatural has happened when in reality it’s completely normal.”

“That’s great, Near. Really, I’m glad to hear you have some input. On that note, could you shut the hell up right now?”

“ Mihael ,” Roger warned, taking his eyes of the road for a moment to send  The Look  Mello’s way. Whenever Roger used his real name, especially when he knew the camera is on, he meant business.

“I think something spooky will happen,” Matt said with a little smile to the camera. He had a rather large suitcase on his lap, but managed to lean forward enough so that his face was almost right next to Mello’s scarred shoulder. “Right, Mello?”

“Definitely.”

* * *

In all honesty, the journey wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Near had brought along a folding chess board and played some rounds with Watari. Matt, of course, brought his game console along for the ride and was perfectly content with playing a video game for a few hours, he rarely got carsick from just that. Roger liked to think while he drove. Or, he would have if it wasn’t for the constant blaring of music that Mello insisted on keeping at max volume that jumbled the flow of his thoughts. 

This child was the thing Roger was worried about most when the idea of a road trip was brought up. Mello wasn’t what some people might call “patient”. Some people liked the idea of being able to have nothing but the open road and your own thoughts for hours on end. Mello was not one of those people. Only when it was the blond’s turn to drive were the rest of the group spared from the well known question “are we there yet?”. And even then, they had a new and even more dangerous threat — Mello’s driving.

With every swerve and bump Roger gripped the “oh shit” handle above the window a little tighter, belting out cautions that fell upon def ears. If the camera hadn’t been turned off for this portion in time, who knows how many charges they’d be facing (If not for Mello’s driving then for the fact that they’re pretty sure Matt was smoking weed in the back).

It was more than a relief when their desired location came into view and Watari, who had taken the wheel from Mello when Roger actually passed out from terror, pulled into an empty parking space.

“You guys go settle into the hotel room, we’ll get the luggage on a cart!” Matt instructed, hauling the suitcase from his lap and waving off everyone besides his blond bestie. 

“Are you sure you want to handle all of that by yourselves? Why don’t we help—“

“No! Your old man bones will crack, Roger! We got this.”

Mello tore the camera from the dashboard . He switched it on, made sure it was recording, and circled around to the back of the car as Roger, Near, and Watari all shrugged and went to fetch their room key. 

“So, we promised Near something supernatural would happen,” Mello told the camera as Matt popped open the trunk and heaved the suitcase he’d been guarding to lay on top of the rest of the luggage. Once it was secured in place, he undid the zipper to reveal a jumbled mess of sturdy, transparent wire, cogs, and a shitload of duct tape hidden within the case. “So we’re gonna give him something supernatural whether he likes it or not.”

* * *

“Great, you’re back! Now we can all rest up!” Roger sighed, practically throwing himself down onto the couch that sat across from the living room television that Near began to turn on and flip through some channels.

“Nope! Actually we need you guys to scout out the pool.” Matt chirped, fully aware and pleased by the fact that Roger’s brain was swelling against his skull at his resistance to choke Matt out.

“Why?” Spoke Near, eyes never leaving the television as apparently he deemed  Hell’s Kitchen  worthy enough to not skip past. “It’s not like we’ll find any ghosts lounging around by the pool.”

Mello swiped the remote from Near’s loose grip and powered the tv off. “Well, we’ll never know if we don’t check, now will we?”

Roger grunted as he sat up from his comfy spot on the couch. Near followed the nanny to the door before they were stopped as Matt helped out a sharp ‘Wait!’ and started to dig around one of the duffel bags they had brought.

“Take this!” He shoved an EMF reader into Roger’s hands and ushered the pair out the door.

“You too, Watari!” Mello called to their adoptive father. Watari was already in the little kitchen area, unloading a plethora of ingredients from a backpack. When he was called, he dusted his hands of the loose flour from the container and followed Near and Roger with a barely audible sigh.

The door clicked shut. Mello set up some cameras to catch footage around the room like they’d talked about in the car. Then, it was time to  really get to work.

* * *

“What did we tell you? No ghosts,” Near announced upon their return to the rather comfortable hotel room.

“Oh, that’s a real shame.” Matt brought the cup of coffee he had just made to his lips, being careful to avoid the transparent wire attached to the handle. “Well, the night’s still young.”

“Yeah, just ‘cause  you didn’t see anything doesn’t mean  we won’t!” Declared Mello with a tone full of confidence. He covered the leg on the chair he was seated in with his boot, effectively hiding the duct tape wrapped securely around it. “Don’t be a Negative Nate.”

Near looked at Mello with a blank stare. “Really? You’re resorting to puns? That’s Matt’s job.”

Matt shrugged and set his mug down on the kitchen table. He leaned back and reached casually under the table, grabbing for the end of one of the wire systems they had strung up around the hotel room. If they did this correctly and Matt pulled at the wire...

The mug slid across the kitchen table. The gentle scraping caught everyone’s attention and all heads in the room turned to inspect the sound.

“Oh my,” Watari breathed. But to be honest in his case he could have just been worried about the coffee spilling.

“Come on, guys. Really?” Near crossed the room and placed a finger directly onto the transparent wire. He didn’t even have to feel around for it, it was like he knew it was there all along and was just waiting to point it out. He gave the wire a flick and it caught the light so it was clearly visible. “How long did you think you could keep that up?”

Just then Mello let out an over dramatic yell. He had activated his own fake phenomenon and the chair he was sitting in went sailing across the floor with him in it. Matt began to wonder if they should have rehearsed their lines before they started. “Gah! The ghost’s got me! Roger, you believe me, right!? You’ll save me!?”

The aforementioned man merely plopped down onto the couch with a groan and rubbed his temples as if that would drown out Mello’s incessant wailing. He switched on the television and put it to max volume. Near sat down beside him and pulled one leg up to his chest, getting comfy after a long day of road trips and annoying brothers.

Matt sighed, “Fine, you got us. But you have to admit it was a pretty good prank, right?”

“No.” Near and Roger said in unison. Watari chuckled and took a seat on the couch as well, a steaming bowl of buttery popcorn to accompany him.

“Did you at least believe it for a little bit?” Mello asked, trying to keep the hopefulness in his voice at bay but failing miserably.

“No,” answered the three in unison again.

“Damn, I thought for sure...!” Matt began, reaching for his coffee mug, then realizing that it wasn’t on the table anymore. No, it was  above the table. Hovering, with nothing underneath of it except clear air. “Uh...guys...?”

Four sets of eyes flickered over to Matt, only one out of those four widening in surprise — Mello, for he was the only one of them that knew they hadn’t set up a prank like this.

“Nice try, but we already caught you. It’s time to give up,” said Near, placing a piece of popcorn into his mouth, unbothered by the whole situation.

“No, Near, we didn’t set up anything like this!” Mello got to his feet, rushing over to the kitchen table. He was stopped halfway, however, when the mug went barreling across the room right towards his head. It must have brushed a few of his hairs before smashing into the wall behind him. “HOLY SHIT THE GHOST TRIED TO KILL ME—“

By now everyone was aware that this was not a joke. They were all on their feet now, the bowl of popcorn sadly knocked to the floor. Part of Matt wanted to say ‘screw Mello!’ and made a dive for the popcorn. No! He must stay strong!

“You’re  sure you didn’t intend to make that happen?”

“WHY WOULD I INTEND TO HAVE A GHOST CUP SMASH MY HEAD IN, NEAR!?”

“That’s it, I’m calling L!” Roger announced, ripping his phone from his pocket and dialing the well known number while Mello began to take down all the hidden cameras, whispering ‘I’m fucking  done ’ to each one of them.

“Hello?” Came the familiar monotonous voice of their oldest brother L. They all had to admit, they were a little (okay, more than a little) relieved to hear his voice.

“L! I’m so glad you answered! Mello and Matt dragged us to this haunted hotel and now there’s ghosts— h-hello?”

“THE GHOST IS IN YOUR PHONE NOW!”

“Worse. He hung up.”

And then they were never heard from again...

Haha, just kidding. Who do you think is editing this video?

  * Matt




	6. The Adventures of The Chaotic Children’s Chaotic Food Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by: dragonsareourfuture   
> This is during an AU where the task force works on the Kira case at Wammy’s instead of Japan. Just cuz. Oh, also everyone has a chaotic child.

Everyone was tired. Yeah, that was a pretty good generalization for what everyone investigating the Kira case felt that day. No one could tell whether it was lucky or absolutely taunting that the atmosphere of that day completely contrasted their drowsiness — sunlight peeked through the closed curtains (Matt had drawn them shut after Mello wouldn’t stop complaining about his pounding head due to the sun) and sounds from the room currently being used as a mess hall echoed through the hallways and into the real mess hall that the investigation group had stolen. It was easier to spread all the documents and computers out on the long cafeteria tables rather than cramming it all on a couple of pushed together classroom desks.

There was a sigh and a flip of a document, then more silence between the group. Through the dreadful sounds of absolutely nothing, it was easy to hear the chatter of the younger students and detectives that worked through Wammy house. Sprinkled in with the students, though, were the children of everyone in the office-transformed mess hall.

As time went on, slow as a snail stuck in glue, more and more of the group’s heads perked up in curiosity. The noise from the kids down the hall was getting noticeably louder and more frantic, like idle chatter had turned to arguments. L glanced at Mello, who was already on his feet, and Matt who looked like he was close behind.

“What the hell...” Light began from the other end of the table when an ear splitting scream echoed throughout the entirety of the school and everyone in the room bolted towards the exit.

They made it out into the hallway and another yelp bounced off the walls, but this time it came from behind them.

“Why the hell is there a tomato on the floor!?” Light grouched, refusing Misa’s attempt to help him from the floor and rejoining the rest of the parents.

Food was flying through the doorway of the classroom they had used as a cafeteria for the day, along with shouts of profanities and laughter. Using each other as shields, the group of adults rushed into the classroom. There was not a spot on the wall or floor that hadn’t been covered in food.

“YOU DON’T LIKE POTATO CHIPS DO YOU? WELL TAKE THESE!”

“BLAKE, NO—!” Matt bolted from his safe spot behind Mello to stop his daughter before she could hurl an armful of baked potatoes at one of the Yagami kids, Hikari.

Mello would have helped his best friend out, but he was far too focused on finding his own kid. His beady blue eyes darted around the room until a familiar cry just about jumpstarted his heart and directed his attention to one of the filing cabinets in the corner of the room.

“Dad!” Anghel called, huddled on top of the filing cabinet. Mello rushed to his son, noting the scraps of food stuck in his shoulder length blond hair.

“Shit, bud, how’d you get up there!?” Mello caught Anghel as he practically threw himself from the top of the cabinet to meet him.

“Climbed,” the boy deadpanned, flashing an innocent blue gaze at his father before hiding his face in Mello’s jacket.

“Oh, Jericho, are you alright!?” Misa fussed, running up to her daughter and grabbing her cheeks, inspecting her face for any injury.

“Moooom I’m fine! It’s Hikari you gotta worry about!” Jericho pulled from her mother’s grasp to point at her brother, who had taken cover from the crazed red head and her potatoes under one of the desks.

Once the threat was eliminated (or rather being held by her foot by her dad) Hikari jumped to his feet.

“You almost killed me!”

“Oh, please, it was just, like, six potatoes. If I aimed well enough you could have swallowed them.”

“With the skin on!? Gross!”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?” Light asked his son.

“Blake...just... why? ” Matt asked while gesturing around to the entire food-coated room.

“He threw potato chips at me!” Blake defended, swinging her arms around as if trying to find Hikari and point at him from her upside down position.

“IT WAS A REFLEX.”

“Okay! I think we’re all a bit tired and angry with this investigation going on. Why don’t we all just settle down,” Light proposed innocently.

“That’s a good idea...” L spoke calmly. “...Kira.”

“OH THIS AGAIN!?”

“I KNOW ITS YOU.”

“YOU HAVE LITERALLY NO EVIDENCE.”

“YOUR OWN KIDS WOULD TESTIFY AGAINST YOU.”

“We would.”

“HIKARI WHAT— okay...see what I mean? None of us are in our right minds.”

“I agree with Light!” Misa piped up.

“Mom, no.” Jericho took her mom’s hand and patted it comfortingly. “Join the right side.”

“Are you kidding me, Jericho?”

“Light, I think you should calm down. You’re not in your right mind.” L would have sounded completely sincere if it weren’t for the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Light sighed. “I was trying to help the situation.”

“You’re the reason the situation happened in the first place!!” Jericho shouted at her father, stepping forward only for Misa to hold her back by the shoulder.

“I’m the— what!?”

“We hate potato chips because of you so when Blake offered them to Hikari he instinctively threw them in her face! Obviously.”

“...you hate potato chips? Why?”

“Because you buy them literally ALL THE TIME, dad! Seriously, who needs THAT many potato chips?”

“See now it just feels like we’ve strayed from the topic at hand.”

“It’s like you’re preparing for the end of the world by stocking up on literally JUST POTATO CHIPS.”

“Jericho, honey, I think he gets the picture.” Misa finally cut in, placing herself between her daughter and Light, who looked positively in awe at the fact that his own children could hate potato chips so much. It was like a crime, which he definitely never committed in his life.

“So what now?” L interjected.

Matt piped up, “I think the person whose fault this is should clean it up.”

“What!? Hikari doesn’t deserve that! You’re just saying that because I’m a suspect.”

“Who said anything about Hikari?”

Mello walked over, Anghel still in his arms. “Yeah, potato chip fiend.”

“Unbelievable!”

“Well, believe it, because you have to get this place cleaned up by five,” L said, checking his watch.

“Have fun, dad!”

Light stood in the middle of the food-stained “mess hall” while the rest of the team headed out the door, shouting mocking farewells over their shoulders. Even Misa was dragged away by Jericho and Hikari.

“...absolute morons...”


	7. The Adventures of Anghel’s First Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by: dragonsareourfuture 
> 
> Since we have created children for everyone, I thought up a thing and decided to write it. Enjoy.

The very first thing Mello heard that morning was the small whines emitting from Anghel’s room. Despite the heaviness he felt having just woken up, Mello all but bolted out of his own bedroom and skidded to a stop in the living room where he and Matt had set up Anghel’s crib.

As it turned out, to Mello’s extreme relief, there wasn’t anything wrong, Anghel was simply ready to get up, bored in the confines of his crib. The blond let out a sigh of relief and trudged over to the child, now sitting upright and wringing his tiny little hands around the blanket that usually accompanied him.

Mello smiled a tired yet genuine grin at his son, reaching over the bars of the crib to heave the small child into his arms. He balanced Anghel on his hip, bouncing him up and down and eliciting little giggles from him.

“You won’t ever let me sleep, will you?”

Anghel just giggled some more, flashing the small stubs of teeth that were still in the midst of coming in. With a pat to his head, Mello turned out of the room and headed for the tiny kitchen area.

As it seemed, Matt had vanished, probably to the store. And for good reason. When Mello opened the fridge, he noticed that there was only a half of a plastic-wrapped sandwich, a few jars of baby food, and Matt’s video game controller for some reason. Mello grabbed one of the baby food jars and then turned to set Anghel up in one of the kitchen chairs. Since they didn’t have a high chair and getting the crib was already a stretch, they had equipped one of the dining chairs with a stack of books and used one of Mello’s belts to keep Anghel from falling off of it. 

So Mello strapped his son atop the stack of books and left him babbling and patting the table to fetch a spoon. When he turned around and sat next to the makeshift high chair, he was met with a tiny hand unceremoniously slapping him in the face.

“Ack-! Anghel, what the f— heck was that?”

Anghel merely kept making grabby hands for his father’s face. Mello gave in, leaning his head down so his child could freely poke at his cheeks with big, curious blue eyes. Anghel’s breakfast sat forgotten on the table.

Suddenly a big smile flashed across the infant’s chubby face. He tugged at a strand of his dad’s hair and said, “dada!”

Mello clapped a hand over his mouth.  _ Holy shit, he said it. _

The belt fastening Anghel safely to the pile of books was unlatched, and he was lifted from his perch and tucked gently into his father’s arms once again.

“Yeah, bud, that’s me. I’m your dada...” Mello practically sobbed through the tears now rolling down his face.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but without realizing it Mello had sunk to the ground, his son now sitting on his knee with his head pressed lovingly against his chest.

Eventually the sound of keys rattling at the door broke through Mello’s sobs and seconds later, Matt walked through the door. Upon seeing Mello crying on the ground, he immediately assumed the worst.

“Mels, what happened!?”

The blond looked up to lock eyes with his best friend, his own eyes bloodshot and soaked with tears. “Matt, he said it! He said ‘dada!’”


	8. The Adventures of— oh, god, uh, this just got angsty...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by: dragonsareourfuture 
> 
> Another Oneshot for Mello’s wonderful child because I accidentally thought of a sad thing :)

Anghel didn’t really know what was going on, that was the only thing he did know for sure. It had all happened so fast that the time to process everything all at once simply was not there. He knew that things were bad. He didn’t have a clue as to why or how, but even so the only question he needed answered was “is dad going to be okay?”

Anghel had been stationed by his father’s feet on the floor when his Uncle Matt arrived at the door. It wasn’t like any other time Matt came to pick Anghel up from the warehouse. If normality were being applied here, the redhead would have burst through the door like there weren’t about ten men armed with guns inside and swoop Anghel up into his arms before heading for the road. But this time his uncle’s smile was forced, hiding anxiety and a disturbingly knowing expression that made Anghel only want to bury his head into his father’s leg instead of run up to hug the man like he always did. But his dad urged him to his feet, and Anghel threaded his arms through the oversized sleeves of the leather jacket his dad let him borrow, readying to board his uncle Matt’s car. He remembered thinking such a situation was strange, considering how early his uncle had arrived yet everyone acted like they couldn’t get them out the door fast enough.

They got to the apartment in record time. Not that it was an abnormality for uncle Matt to break a few speeding laws, but given the already tense atmosphere, Anghel could sense there was a reason he was being chauffeured so quickly home.

Anghel went through his nightly routine as he normally would, brushing his teeth while uncle Matt worked to get the tangles out of his hair with a brush.

“Jeez, I can never believe how long your hair is getting,” the redhead commented, holding Anghel’s head in place to work on a particularly stubborn knot. He smiled fondly at the child in the washroom mirror. “You’re looking more and more like your dad, y’know?”

Anghel didn’t want to cry, but weight of his suspicions felt ten tons heavier when uncle Matt spoke about his dad so sentimentally. A choked sob fell from the child’s mouth as tears and stray blobs of toothpaste littered his face. “Is dad going to be okay?”

It was garbled from the mouthful of toothpaste, but clear enough for Matt to understand and spin Anghel around to face him. He could tell uncle Matt was just as upset as he was, just handling it differently. Different people handled things in different ways. Still, Anghel couldn’t help but feel guilty for making the situation worse by crying.

He didn’t have a chance to apologize for the mess of tears and toothpaste before he was being pulled into uncle Matt’s embrace. The foamy substance all over Anghel’s lips smeared over his uncle’s jacket, but neither of them seemed to care.

“He’s strong,” uncle Matt finally spoke, and everything Anghel had been holding back just suddenly broke. So something  was going to happen. Before, he had considered it foolish to cry when all he had to base his suspicions off of were mere differences in mannerisms. But now, well, crying didn’t feel like enough.

And now that he started, Anghel couldn’t stop.He sobbed until his throat hurt, tiny fists curling around the fluffy accents of his uncle’s vest, pulling and tearing and feeling horrible that he was ruining it but being unable to just  _ stop _ . He wanted to hit something. He wanted to kick and scream and run back to the warehouse, throw himself in his dad’s arms and stay there forever, no matter what was about to befall him. They’d go through it together, like they did with everything.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” Suddenly Anghel was being heaved up and carried to the bedroom. At every place Anghel and his dad went, the agreement was always the same — Anghel gets the bed. Period. Mello didn’t care if he had to sleep on the couch or the floor. Anghel got the bed.

His sobs were muffled when a towel came to wipe the toothpaste from his mouth. “He loves you so much.“ Matt pressed a kiss to Anghel’s temple, adding, “and so do I.”

“I kn-ow...” Anghel croaked, forcing a smile as he pulled the covers over his legs. “I love you guys too.”

“We know you know, we just like to tell you,” Matt chuckled, awarding Anghel one last kiss of the forehead, ruffling his hair and wiping the still falling tears from his eyes.

“Uncle Matt...”

“Hmm?”

“Could you st-ay with me ‘til I fall asleep?”

“Of course, bud.” And so Matt flopped down on the bed next to Mello’s child, his heavier weight causing Anghel to bounce and boy’s sobs broke momentarily to allow a laugh to slip through. 

It was comforting having his uncle Matt there with him, but it wasn’t his dad. No one was.

Soon enough Anghel drifted off into unconsciousness, leftover tears seeping into his pillow. On his way to sleep he made a prayer — please, please,  _please_ ,  just let his dad come back to him safely.

* * *

Fortunately he didn’t have to wait long for his wish to come true. Well, in a sense it came true.

Rather than waking up naturally the next morning, Anghel was stirred awake by an unknown source. His eyes fluttered open, greeted by a dark room with only a sliver of light peeking out from the crack under the bedroom door. He might have tried to fall back asleep if it weren’t for the frantic footsteps and voices emanating from the main room.

Anghel threw the covers off of himself and padded to the door, cracking it open slightly before he made any effort to make it known that he was awake and eavesdropping. But his intentions to stay out of the way evaporated once he saw his father.

“Dad!” Anghel shouted, throwing the door open all the way and bounding up to his father. “What...what’s going on?”

His father, who Anghel only knew to stand tall and proud, was hanging with an arm around uncle Matt’s shoulder. His eyes seemed out of focus, the usually bold shade of blue appearing glazed over and dull. But the feature that made Anghel’s stomach twist was the entire left side of his father’s face and arm, bloody and burned and oozing something that Anghel didn’t like the looks of.

Anghel choked. He backed away, hands moving to cover his face. What  _happened_?

“Anie...?” His father was guided to the couch and laid down on it like he was the most fragile thing in the world. “Matt, you...you left him  _ alone _ ? Here!?”

“What did you want me to do? Take him with me?” Uncle Matt fussed. He grabbed a bag and pulled out all kinds of medical supplies — ointment, gauze, medical tape. Anghel hesitantly stepped forward just as uncle Matt started to uncap the tube of ointment.

“Hey, bud,” Mello greeted his child, a smile on his face despite the situation.  _ How could he be smiling?  _ Anghel wondered in awe. His dad lifted his good arm and motioned for Anghel to come closer. The child obeyed, and when he was close enough he could see just how terrible the skin on his dad’s arm had become — mangled and charred, looking downright agonizing.

Anghel didn’t notice at the time, but his expression must have contorted in horror at the sight because soon his face was being tucked into the crook of his father’s neck. Even with his eyes now covered Anghel could feel when his dad tensed as uncle Matt started to apply the ointment. He could hear how labored his breathing became, trying not to make a noise indicating how bad it actually was. He just kept his son’s face hidden against him, hands running through the hair that looked so much like his own as a distraction from the pain.

“Dad, I missed you,” Anghel said. His fingers wandered to the rosary his dad wore around his neck. He ran his fingers over the metal cross, clearing it of ash.

“I know, I’m sorry, Anie. I promise I’ll never be this late again.”

“Don’t be sorry...it’s not your fault.”

Anghel couldn’t bring himself to mention the elephant — or rather, giant, nasty burn scar — in the room. As much as he hated himself for it, he was almost happy that he didn’t know what was going on. All he really  _ needed _ to know was that something a little less than ideal happened, and it could have gone a lot worse. But it didn’t, and his dad was right there with him. That’s really all that mattered.


End file.
